


Two Lines

by asaloki



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alpha Sam, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mpreg, Omega Castiel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-01
Updated: 2013-08-01
Packaged: 2017-12-22 02:44:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 736
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/907968
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/asaloki/pseuds/asaloki
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              
<p></p><div>
  <p>It’s been months since the two of them started this, started looking to build their own home, to fill it. Cas has entered numerous heats since then, and each one has led them to the same all-encompassing, bitter disappointment.</p>
</div>
            </blockquote>





	Two Lines

**Author's Note:**

> [Tumblr](http://waldostiel.tumblr.com)

Cas tends to rattle off statistics when he’s nervous.

Now, he’s more nervous than Sam has ever known him to be, and the information he blurts out is useless—extraneous. Sam wants to hold Cas close, to kiss the nervous babble from his mate’s mouth until he’s calm once more, but he can do little to ease Cas’ nerves in this situation. Sam shares those same nerves, after all; he wonders if this time there’ll be two lines on the test instead of one and he worries for his mate’s reaction should that not be the case. 

Cas stiffens, cuts off mid-sentence when the timer he insisted on setting sounds. He blanches, and Sam reaches out to take his hand on instinct. The need to reassure Cas is too strong for him to refrain. “Come on, Cas,” he coaxes. He can’t keep the excitement from his voice, even when he tries his best to sound neutral. “It’s time.”

Sam leads Cas into their bathroom to see the results. The test is laid on the side beside the basin but before Sam can move towards it, Cas halts. He comes to a standstill that forces Sam to do the same. Cas doesn’t look at him, though. He stares ahead, biting down on his lip until it’s sore. “What if—” Cas starts, troubled. He hesitates for a moment. “We should reset the timer… We should wai—”

“No,” Sam asserts. “We’ve waited. Now it’s time for us to see.”

Cas’ hand becomes slack in Sam’s hold. “Sam,” he whispers. He sounds so forlorn; Sam’s heart aches for him, with him. It’s been months since the two of them started this, started looking to build their own home, to fill it. Cas has entered numerous heats since then, and each one has led them to the same all-encompassing, bitter disappointment.

It’s hard to watch as the hope drains from Cas, his excitement replaced with fear and sadness for the lack of a second line on every test, but Sam tries to hope enough for the both of them, to be excited.

It’s all he can do.

“No matter what,” Sam murmurs, sincere. “I swear, Cas. You’re all I need.”

Cas looks down at his feet. He draws in a deep, steeling breath. “I know, Sam.” But he wants it so bad it hurts. He wants to provide this one thing for Sam, for them both. He wants Sam to see his worth as a father.

He wants.

He _wants_.

Sam waits until Cas nods, inclines his head towards the test. “You sure?” He asks. His own hand is loose as he awaits confirmation. Cas nods a second time. He even manages to offer Sam a strained smile. Sam obediently lets go of Cas’ hand, steps closer to the sink and keeps his eyes trained on Cas’ reflection in the mirror. He reaches for the test but wavers at the last second. He can’t bring himself to look. “Cas…”

Cas’ hands curl into tight fists at his sides. He meets Sam’s gaze in the mirror “I love you,” he mouths, the words forming silent on his lips. He can’t find his voice, can’t even find his breath when Sam looks down at the test and _sees_.

For a long time, Sam doesn’t look up. When he does, his eyes are wet and his expression is hard to read. “Two lines,” he breathes.

Cas doesn’t understand. His brow furrows and he’d distracted by the tears in Sam’s eyes because Sam has never cried before—he comforts Cas, holds back his own sadness in order to hold Cas close, to soothe him. Cas fumbles for a moment, hastens to comfort Sam. “I- Sam, I’m so—”

Sam turns to face him, a broad smile stretching across his lips. “No, Cas. Two lines. _Two_.”

Cas stares at Sam for a long moment and then he matches Sam’s smile with a hesitant one of his own. “Two lines,” he whispers with reverence. He sounds amazed, soft with shared happiness of the realisation.

Sam crosses the room as Cas touches his still-flat stomach, curious. He pulls his mate into his arms so his back is flush to Sam’s chest and holds him close. “I love you,” he whispers into Cas’ hair, pressing kisses to the top of his head, elated. His hand comes to rest over Cas’ own, the instinctive need to _protect_ overwhelming. “Both of you.”


End file.
